


Under Pressure

by citrinesunset



Category: White Collar
Genre: Anal Sex, Bladder Control, M/M, Omorashi, Peeing inside someone, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Neal likes to see how long he can control is bladder. Peter puts him to the test.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [d_b_w](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_b_w/gifts).



There was no toilet in the van. It was for the best—the van smelled bad enough as it was—but it did mean that it wasn't always convenient to take a bathroom break.

It wasn't like Peter held him prisoner or made him piss in an empty soda bottle. In fact, things were quiet enough tonight that Neal could have excused himself and Peter might have let him go with barely a cursory scowl. There were no signs that the surveillance would become interesting. Their suspect had been watching TV for the past two hours. So Neal amused himself by rocking in his chair, enjoying the fullness of his bladder. It didn't hurt, and he wasn't on the verge of having an accident, so he would wait. He wondered how long he could hold it. An hour? Maybe two? The mild urgency sent tingles up his spine.

He was still holding on when Diana and Jones arrived to take over. He'd been sitting for hours, and he wasn't prepared for the pressure on his bladder when he stood up. A small twinge of pain shot through his groin, but it quickly passed, and he decided he could wait a little longer. Until he got home, at least. Peter was driving him home, and while the streets of Manhattan were never exactly quiet, it was late enough that they could move at a decent pace.

He wondered if Peter could tell he was holding it in. He had a good poker face, but half the fun was rocking and shifting his weight to feel the pressure. And as it got worse, it was hard to stay still.

Besides, he hoped Peter _would_ notice. It was less fun if he had to spell it out for him.

Peter said nothing for a few minutes. He kept his eyes on the road. When he did speak, he didn't even look at Neal.

"You know, one of these days, someone is going to see you squirming and think I'm a tyrant who doesn't give you bathroom breaks."

Neal was caught by surprise, and when he was surprised, his instinct leaned toward misdirection. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do."

"I don't squirm when other people are around. Just you."

Peter smirked. "Oh, so this is for my benefit?"

"Depends on how you look at it. I consider it a mutual benefit. And come on, admit it--you like seeing me squirm."

Peter didn't try to deny it.

Now that he knew Peter had picked up on his little indulgence in the van, it was almost certain that the night would end with Peter's cock in his ass. A perfect silver lining to an otherwise dull night.

When they got to Neal's place, Peter parked and turned off the engine without waiting for an invitation. Neal's apartment was dark as he left it, much to his relief. The last thing he wanted tonight was to find Mozzie sitting at the dining room table halfway into a bottle of expensive Merlot.

Peter helped him out of his jacket and took the opportunity to run his fingers down Neal's back.

"You know," Peter said, "I've been thinking. I think I get why you're into this."

"Oh yeah?"

"You like pushing the limits. The danger excites you."

Neal turned his head and let Peter kiss him on the lips. "I thought we could do something a little more fun than psychoanalysis."

Peter wrapped his arms around Neal and started to undo his tie. He couldn't see what he was doing very well, and he fumbled with the half Windsor knot, but Neal enjoyed having Peter's hands near his throat too much to complain. After a bit of effort, Peter loosened Neal's tie and pulled it loose. He draped it over the back of a dining room chair.

Neal started for the bed, but Peter put a hand on his arm.

"No. This way." He pulled Neal by the arm, leading him in the direction of the bathroom.

"The bed is a little more comfortable, don't you think?"

"Do you really feel like making a mess of your bed?"

"Who says I plan to make a mess?"

"Right, of course. My mistake. But you know, just to be safe...."

Neal let Peter pull him into the bathroom. No, it wasn't quite as sexy as getting fucked on the bed. Shower sex was never as fun as it sounded. And the idea of wetting his bed while Peter fucked him was intriguing. But Peter was right—it might be too much of a mess. He wouldn't find it as fun if he was up all night waiting for his mattress to dry.

The bathroom was a tight fit for the two of them. They had to dance around each other while they stripped out of their clothes. Neal didn't waste any time getting naked. The tile floor was cold under his bare feet.

"Do you really think you can hold it while I fuck you?" Peter asked. The question he didn't ask, which might have been more relevant, was whether Neal wanted to.

"You don't think I can?"

"I was watching you tonight. You drank a lot of coffee. I don't know if you have any extra room in there right now." Peter stepped out of his boxers. His cock was getting hard, and as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Neal, it pressed against Neal's stomach.

"This is starting to sound like a challenge. I like a challenge. What do I get if I succeed?"

Peter thought for a moment. "If you can hold your bladder until after I finish, we can go out for dinner tomorrow at that French restaurant you've been raving out. I'll even let you tease me when I complain about the food."

"And if I can't hold it?"

"We can get beer and hot dogs and you won't complain about my taste being too pedestrian."

"Sounds like a deal."

Peter maneuvered him into the bathtub. Neal had just adjusted to the tile floor, and now the cold ceramic sent a chill up his legs. He heard Peter grab a bottle of lube off the counter and squirt some into his hand.

Peter joined him in the tub. Neal braced his hands on the wall below the shower head and stuck his ass out. Peter pressed a cool, slick finger inside him.

Neal gingerly rubbed his cock. He was worried that if he manipulated it too much, he would lose control before Peter's cock was even in him. He didn't know if he wanted to win this challenge, but he sure didn't want to lose it before they even started. That was no fun.

Peter pulled his finger out and gripped Neal's hips. Neal spread his legs as far as he could in the width of the tub. 

Peter's cock was a lot bigger than his finger, and it was hard for Neal to relax his muscles enough to let it in without also relaxing his bladder. But Peter took it slow.

"You're killing me here," Peter growled in his ear. "So tight."

Neal grinned. "You're the one who wanted a challenge."

Finally, Peter's patience won out and he was almost ball-deep in Neal's ass. He started to thrust.

Neal squeezed his eyes shut. Each time Peter thrust in, his cock rubbed against his prostate. It also pressed against his bladder, sending a tingle through Neal's groin. He'd never felt so full before. His ass, his bladder, his hard cock. If he wasn't so hard, he probably would have pissed himself five minutes ago. He didn't know if he could piss with his cock this hard. God, what if he couldn't? He didn't know if he could take it.

His sweaty palms had a hard time finding traction on the tile wall. If Peter hadn't been holding him tightly around the hips, he might have fallen in a heap.

He didn't know he was starting to lose control until something wet splashed against his stomach. He looked down, letting his head hang between his spread arms. His cock was pointing upward, and a couple drops of urine sat on top of the slit. He clenched his muscles, but it was harder to hold it now that some had escaped. It would be so easy to let go. Even with his erection, he just wanted to let go.

Shuddering, he relaxed. The stream from his cock hit his chest and even splashed at his chin. He lifted his head to keep his face out of the line of fire. Peter's cock kept pounding into him, and it felt like the thrusts were pushing the piss out, forcing him to empty himself.

"I knew you couldn't hold it," Peter said, panting. "No self-control."

Neal couldn't even think about the challenge right now. He felt like he'd been pissing forever, but the stream was still going strong. It splashed against his chest, ran down his legs, and pooled around his bare feet. The smell of it filled his nose.

At long last, it slowed and sputtered to a stop. Peter kept thrusting, and Neal's cock was still hard. Now that his bladder was satisfied, he was more aware of Peter's cock rubbing against this prostate and stretching his hole wide. Neal's own cock slapped against his stomach as he rocked back and forth in time to Peter's movements.

Peter grunted, and his cock twitched in Neal's ass. He was coming. But he didn't pull out when he'd finished.

"Looks like I won this bet," he said.

"I guess so."

"Unless...you want another chance?"

Neal squirmed. Peter's cock was still in his ass, holding him in place. "I'm pretty sure that coffee I drank is all gone now."

"I could fill you back up. And if you hold it in your ass for three minutes, you'll win the challenge."

Fill him--did Peter mean what it sounded like? Neal had never had anyone piss inside him before. The thought sent a shiver down his spine and made his cock even harder.

"What do you say?" Peter asked.

"Sounds like a deal to me."

At first, nothing happened, and Neal wondered if maybe Peter couldn't do it. Was it easy to piss in someone's ass? But then he felt the warm liquid filling him, and he gasped.

It was a strong, steady stream. Neal wondered how much Peter had in him. How hard would it be to hold it all in? Neal squirmed on Peter's cock.

Finally, it trickled to a stop.

"I'm going to pull out now," Peter warned him. "You'll want to clench your muscles so you don't leak."

Peter's cock leaving him was agony. Neal was sure he couldn't stop all the piss from coming out with it. But somehow, he held on.

"Three minutes starting now," Peter murmured in his ear.

Peter reached around and started stroking Neal's cock. Neal groaned.

"That's cheating."

"Oh," Peter said with faux innocence, "you mean you don't want to come?"

"You're a bastard, you know that?"

Peter laughed.

Even with Peter's attempts at distraction, however, Neal was able to keep his ass closed. If anything, the effort to keep his muscles taut made the attention given to his cock even more powerful. An orgasm was building up, and each stroke brought him closer and closer. Neal bit back the noises he wanted to make, as though vocalizing them might make him lose all control.

Finally, Peter made a big show of looking at his watch and said, "And...time."

Neal slumped in relief. Peter never stopped stroking his cock, and now Neal was pushed past the brink. As his cum splashed against his stomach, his ass relaxed and the warm piss began to trickle down his legs, joining his own puddle. He moaned with satisfaction.

Peter stroked his back until the stream stopped. 

"Let's get cleaned up, huh?"

Neal nodded, and then let his head hang limp between his arms. He didn't move as Peter drew the shower curtain closed and turned on the water. He didn't even move when the cold water hit his head, but instead stayed under it while it slowly warmed up. His heart still pounded in his chest.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "So...I guess you owe me a dinner tomorrow, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I do."


End file.
